


Spectral

by OrangeyApples



Category: The Walking Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:02:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2474123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeyApples/pseuds/OrangeyApples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Paul dies at age 17 from a car crash, but wakes up in his home town.  Confusedly he wanders around as a ghost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> It’s October so I decided to pick up a hella new project concerning the idea that Ben’s a ghost. There will be a rp verse on my Ben role-play blog (pxltron) as well as a collection of short stories about his ghostly experience, posted here. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ben Paul or any other character/idea from Tell Tale Games.

       “Jessica, please tell me what you saw.”

       Jessica Paul had trailed off for the third time. She kept her gaze on the rug of her bedroom. Her fingers ran along the underside of her shirt as she took a shaky breath. “I saw…” She swallowed, and it was obvious that she was on the verge of crying. With a sniff, she pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I saw his body in the wreckage. He had a piece of glass stuck…” At this she began to cry, her sentence trailing off.

         “Stuck in his forehead,” the therapist finished for her in a soft tone.

           “The nurses or – or whoever they are with the ambulance, they told me it was already too late. The impact of the crash had pushed it through to the…to the brain. He was dead before we could do anything. Before _I_ could do anything.” With this she buried her face in her hands. The therapist lightly touched Mrs. Paul’s shoulder. He was about to speak when she looked up at him. ”He’s – he’s gone. My son, my Ben…he’s gone. I should have said so much to him…should have said I loved him, why didn’t I say that? I’m a terrible mother…”

          As the therapist handed her a tissue, Ben sat up. He felt his stomach churn, a pang of fear making his senses sharpen. That couldn’t be right. The crash was bad, but he was still alive. He’d remember dying…right?

           It seemed to make sense. Ben had been ignored yesterday when he woke up a few hours after the incident. The fact that had been on the street when he woke up instead of the hospital, with only the company of the tow-truck crew, was unsettling as well. If he was dead, then why was he still here?

            Distractedly Ben stood up. He looked at the therapist as he comforted his mother over his death. Although he was facing the teen, he didn’t acknowledge his presence, as he had been doing before. Ben reached a hand slowly, hesitantly, out to comfort his mother.

             Instead of touching her, Ben’s hand turned translucent where it made contact with his mother’s shoulder, phasing through her like he was some sort of hologram. His eyes widened and he retracted his hand. After curling and uncurling his fingers he looked back to his mother. He felt solid enough. Why had that happened? What was going on?

              “M-Mom?” Ben’s voice cracked. He felt his throat constrict in panic. If he couldn’t even touch her, she probably couldn’t hear him either. “Mom,” the teen repeated. “Mom!” The only sound that Mrs. Paul made were her soft sniffles as she tried to compose herself.

               This couldn’t be happening. It didn’t make sense. Ben turned and rushed out of his parent’s bedroom. Frantically he ran _through_ the front door out onto the street. He skidded to a halt, staring at the door. How did he just do that?

               “Did you hear about that kid?”

                Ben turned around at the sound of voices. A couple of women were walking down the street, towards him. Their arms were covered with shopping bags, and one was checking her phone as she spoke.

                “Are you talking about yesterday with the crash?” the other asked, causing her friend to nod.

                 “Yeah. I think my sister went to school with him.” She shook her head. “Shame he died so young.” Her friend hummed in agreement, looking down at her phone again.

                Ben was still as the women got closer. It couldn’t be true, this wasn’t right. Wasn’t there supposed to be somewhere he was supposed to go when he died? There was a heaven, right? There had to be; this couldn’t be it. _This_ didn’t make any sense. How could-

                A tingling feeling in his stomach brought Ben back from his thoughts. His eyes widened. In an instant the two women had passed through him as if he wasn’t there, making his body turn translucent again. He hunched his shoulders, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

                  “I…” Ben shook his head, standing up. “I’m dead.” It felt strange to say that, but it was the truth. Everything pointed to the idea that whatever he was wasn’t human. He didn’t have a tangible body. Whatever he was, it wasn’t real. He wasn’t really there. No one could see him, hear him, or even touch him.

                    Slowly, Ben returned inside. He rubbed his arms, feeling suddenly cold and alone. What…what was he?


	2. Little Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben attempts to use his newfound ghost abilities to get the attention of his little sister, which takes a turn for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s October so I decided to pick up a hella new project concerning the idea that Ben’s a ghost. There will be a rp verse on my Ben role-play blog (pxltron) as well as a collection of short stories about his ghostly experience, posted here.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ben Paul or any other character/idea from Tell Tale Games. Ben's family is heavily constructed of my own headcanons.

Gracy didn’t want to worry her parents. She busied herself with her toys and books, which put Mrs. Paul at ease every time she walked into her daughter’s bedroom. It seemed that she was coping well with the death of her brother. What she didn’t see were the tears that leaked from the 10-year-old’s eyes every now and then as she played.

When Ben died in the car crash, Gracy had been at her grandparents’ goat farm for her birthday weekend. They’d baked a cake and allowed her to decorate it with a cream-based frosting. It was nice. Coming home to find her big brother dead was a serious shift in her mood.

Ben rested his head on his hand as he watched Gracy. He’d been trying to get her attention ever since she’d arrived in the morning. Everyone else in the house couldn’t see him. His mother was searching his bedroom for who knew what, and his father was too busy sorting out details for the viewing and funeral. Gracy was the last hope he had of being noticed by his family.

The feeling of invisibility was depressing, to put it lightly. It made Ben feel mad, mad at the people who couldn’t see him, mad at whatever force was keeping him here, mad at himself. The fact that he was going to have to endure seeing his body being mourned at the viewing and funeral made him sad, in an indescribable way. There was no way he’d be able to show anyone that he wasn’t really gone if no one could hear him.

As he watched Gracy put down the book she was reading with tears brimming her eyes, Ben sat up. Determination rekindled his original goal of making his sister see him. He wasn’t going to just sit here anymore, watching her cry. It was time to take action.

Ben’s eyes searched the vast array of stuffed animals on the shelves above Gracy’s bed. When he spotted a familiar white tiger, the teen’s brow furrowed in concentration. The tiger wiggled a bit in its place on the shelf. It flew off a moment later when Ben thought harder, bouncing onto the bed. With a small gasp, Gracy looked to her bed. She stood up and walked to pick the lone white tiger up and put it away. Slowly Ben stood up, hopeful that somehow she would be able to see him now.

“Gracy?”

Nothing. Gracy looked around the room, as if trying to find out what had made her beloved tiger fall from its perch. Her blue gaze passed through Ben, not recognizing his presence. The teen’s shoulders slumped in defeat as his little sister put the stuffed animal back.

He’d just have to try harder. Ben took a deep breath. Before he was done, Gracy would see him.

The ghost focused on the top shelf as a whole. In response, a few of the smaller stuffed animals began to drop onto the bed around Gracy. The young girl pulled her arms away from the shelf with wide eyes, but the toys kept falling. Eventually the larger stuffed animals slowly tipped over and fell too. As soon as it was empty the top shelf began to tremble. The trembling turned to violent shaking that disturbed the other shelves. Stuffed animals were raining down onto the bed, followed by chips of paint from the wall.

Gracy gave a sharp scream as one of the shelves fell from where it was nailed to the wall. She scrambled off of the bed right before it fell where she was once standing. When Mr. and Mrs. Paul ran into the room, she was trembling in fear, tears streaking down her face. Ben’s eyes widened, and he tore his gaze away from the shelves to look at his parents. In response, they went entirely still.

“Oh my God, Gracy!” Mrs. Paul cried, taking her daughter’s face in her hands. “What were you trying to do?”

“I…”

“It looks like she made a real mess trying to find something.” Mr. Paul shook his head. “Must have got carried away.” He frowned at the wall and examined the mess as Mrs. Paul lead a trembling Gracy away to comfort her. A few minutes he later he joined his family in the living room.

Ben swallowed as he was left alone in the room. He sat on his sister’s bed, picking up a small stuffed owl. In aggravation he tossed it away from him, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

God, he was stupid. Of course Gracy couldn’t see him. No one could see him, and that wouldn’t change if he tried to scare the living hell out of his family. He was probably going to say unseen forever. A bitter scowl tugged at his mouth. The way Gracy had screamed made him feel like a monster. He deserved to be alone if he was going to resort to fear.

With that thought in mind the ghost phased through the wall, away from his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will add more characters in future chapters.

**Author's Note:**

> In upcoming short stories, I will most likely add other characters.


End file.
